Zombiefied
by eshajouri
Summary: Tweek's current fear are zombies, and now he thinks he's one of them. Creek, but mostly friendship.


**A/N: **Not exactly a Creek fic. It's mostly friendship, but it could go further if you wish so. It's up to you, guys. The song it was inspired by is _Now I'm Feeling Zombiefied,_ by Alien Sex Fiend (not a romantic song either, just thought it was Tweek-like, so). Please, enjoy!

* * *

**Zombified**

_My eyes is all gray_

_And I haven't slept in days,_

_Locked up in your dungeon,_

_Running around in your maze._

Tweek has always been seriously paranoid about weird stuff, such as gnomes, rapists, aliens, abduction and even people themselves. His current fear are zombies, which are supposedly following him everywhere ever since he noticed how suddenly a lot of people started being obsessed about them and assumed it was another conspiracy, and they are craving for his flesh and blood and brains, dragging their rotted body wherever he goes, leaving a trace of dirt behind them. "_Well, have you thought about the possibility that __**you**__ leave that mysterious trace of dirt yourself?"_ Craig suggested once, and that was enough to make Tweek freak the hell out.

Was Craig, by any chance, insinuating Tweek was a zombie himself?

"O-oh, sweet Jesus," he whimpers, twitching violently and lying on his bed, covered with his blankets up to his mouth, moving his alert gaze around the room so no creatures of the night would ever steal his underpants again. _What if Craig is right? _he thinks, just _what if_, because Craig has always been the rational one, at least of the duo (not that it's hard to be more rational than Tweek, but still). But there is also the possibility of Craig being _part_ of the conspiracy and "GAH! Th-that's way t-too much—ngh—pressure," he cries, not even waking up his parents, once they got used to their son's sudden screams and hyperactivity during the small hours.

Tweek tried to leave the matter alone, but he couldn't; and before he can even think of sleep, there was the sun, gladly rising from the far east, announcing another day was beginning and he had another restless night to add to his fucked up sleep pattern. Everyone told him he needed to fix that—and a lot of other stuff too, actually—, but how could he? There was an army of monsters out to get him and they wanted him to _sleep_? However, Tweek had almost succeeded because Craig had assured him he would be there whenever Tweek needed to take a break of all that paranoia and those phobias, but, after that hint of betrayal, Tweek could trust him no more.

Whether it was a zombie apocalypse or not, Mr. and Mrs. Tweak apparently didn't care, because no matter how much he pleaded, no matter how much he _cried_ and explained what horrors awaited him out there, Tweek was kicked out of his house with a "There's nothing wrong with the world, dear, don't worry so much" and a "Have fun at school, son." They even _refused_ to give him a shotgun or any kind of weapon for his protection.

And so the battle begins. Tweek walks cautiously to the nearest bus stop, his eyes all around, though his vision was starting to get blurry, since he didn't get any sleep for four days or so. Every minimal movement within the radius of ten meters scared the living crap out of him, even if it was a leaf graciously falling from its mother tree or a squirrel harmlessly passing by. One wouldn't have to mention that, when Clyde friendly tapped his shoulder, Tweek almost broke down, crying for his life and begged mercy with all his voice allowed him.

"Dude," Clyde stepped back. "What the fuck, Tweek, just—just chill, okay, Jesus," he approached the boy again, lightly touching his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Tweek looked at him, glad it wasn't a zombie that had silently penetrated his imaginary force shield and was ready to devour his insides. "Clyde! W-we're not—ngh—safe!" he cried out, grabbing the boy's sleeve, pulling him into what Clyde guessed was supposed to be a hug.

"What—" Clyde took a look at his friend's face, startled. "_Tweek_!"

"WH-WH-WHAT?"

"Dude!" he cupped Tweek's face with his hands, looking at the deep dark circles under the moss-colored eyes. "Have you slept lately, like, at all? You look like an owl!" he remarked in a tone that was between childish and impressed, the usual Clyde-like tone. "No, not an owl, you're so pale," he corrected himself, quite concerned now. "You look like a freaking **zombie**!"

"WHAT," Tweek freaked out, twitching crazily, "N-n-no, no, no, no! It can't be!"

A large metal can—like Clyde enjoyed calling the bus—arrived just in time, and Tweek stormed into said can, looking for Craig among the students. "Craig!" he called as soon as his eyes met the blue hat with a fluffy yellow ball atop it, running towards it. "I think you're—GAH—right! Oh, Jesus Christ, Craig, you were right!"

"What," was all Craig's monotone uttered, bored eyes studying the spastic blond. "What the fuck, Tweek."

"You were right! I'm a—ngh—zombie, oh, God, Craig," Tweek whined, clinging onto him. "What should I do, Craig! GAH! If my parents knew, oh my _God,_ they'd hate me so much, they would disown me! GAH, JESUS!" he whimpered, squeezing Craig's shirt so tight for dear life. "Oh, no!" he looked him in the eyes, despair ruling them. "What if I—GAH—_eat_ my parents, Craig! Jesus Christ, I can't, Craig, that's way too horrible!"

"What the fuck, Tweek," was the response once more. "When have I ever said you were a fucking zombie," he asked rhetorically, not even putting effort enough to make it sound like a question. "You're not a zombie. Calm down."

"GAH! You said I was a zombie!" he insisted, screaming and twitching and being all Tweek. "You did! C-Craig!" he whined, tears threatening to fall down his eyes. "Why me, Craig—ngh—why meeeee!"

Craig sighed, petting the spiky blond hair, trying to calm him down, while flipping off everybody else's curious looks; and when they finally arrived at school, Tweek was still whining, though everyone had eventually shaken it off, not even paying attention to the desperate boy as they got off the bus.

"Are you going to whine for much longer?" Craig finally speaks near the school entry, rolling his eyes.

"GAH! But, _Craig_! What am I going to do!" he whines, his grip on the other's sleeve still vigorously there. "What if—ngh—what if I eat everybody? All of my friends! GAH, JESUS!"

"Look," he stops, tucking the sleeve Tweek isn't grabbing onto, revealing his bare pale arm. "Try to eat me," he commands, looking right into the blond's frightened eyes. "Just a bite. Try."

"NO!" he cries out. "Craig, you're my best friend! I don't want to eat you!"

"Tweek," he calls with a tone that just says _he won't say it again_. "I know what I'm doing. I always know."

Tweek reluctantly holds his friend's arm, looking up to his eyes to make sure he was following the instructions correctly. He just stands there, shifting his gaze between Craig's arm and Craig's eyes, and, at long last, touches his lips on the other boy's skin. Although it actually had a marshmallow-like look, when he touches it with his tongue, it's salty and cold, soft even, but not as Tweek thought it would be. He makes a face, not exactly a displeased one, but a confused expression that tells Craig exactly what he was expecting.

"So?"

"I..." Tweek looks at him, still confused. "I still—ngh—prefer coffee."

"You see now, you're not a fucking zombie."

"But you said—"

"I didn't."

"You—ngh—did!"

"Just _when_ was it, Tweek?"

"When I said zombies were—GAH—following me and you said there was no proof and I said they left that creepy dirt trail and you said I was a zombie and left it myself and, and, Jesus! Craig! How can you not remember it!"

"For fuck's sake," Craig rolls his eyes. "I didn't mean that. You drag your feel while you walk, have you ever noticed that? I don't think so. And when we walk around the town, your shoes always get dirty and, wherever you go, you just get everything dirty. _That's_ where that fucking mysterious trail of dirt come from. _Your fucking shoes_."

Tweek blinks a few times, processing the idea. So that's just it? Just his stupid habit of dragging his feet?

"C-Craig," he says quietly, looking down, and he feels embarrassed and dumb and knows that there's a redness crossing his cheeks. "A-are you—ngh—mad at me?"

"No," the other boy just looks at him and his face shows something that looks like a small smile—which is rare, so Tweek gives him a truly happy and relieved smile from ear to ear, giving himself the right to admire the unusual expression of Craig's. "Just come and ask me before you cry the whole time from your house to the school."

"O—ngh—kay."

Craig knew Tweek wouldn't, but that's okay. Their misunderstandings were rather adorable.


End file.
